A Basic Renovation

by Sandra Antonelli

  ‘Blaming you is an old habit.’

  She banged her cup to the table. ‘You actually thought I was responsible for Stefanie taking a hike because I told her my marriage was a sham? You think that somehow I persuaded her to walk out on you, that I gave her the courage. Wow. For someone who was supposed to be coma-inducing and unremarkable, you certainly gave me a lot of power. Why would I have involved myself in your crap? Good God, why would little ol’ Lez-lee have been interested?’

  ‘It seemed like a good idea at the time. You know, it was all so coincidental and terribly convenient.’

  ‘And I bet Terry had something to do with it as well. I’m sure he just greased whatever rail you were on.’

  ‘You could say that.’ Dominic rubbed both hands over his face and exhaled. When he looked up, the tension around his eyes was gone, as if it was a relief to get all that off his chest.

  Well she wasn’t relieved. ‘You know something, sweetie, if conclusion jumping and lying were a competition your family would be world champions for sure – and I mean that in the nicest possible way. I’m surprised Stefanie left when Kyle was so young, but I can tell you she left because you wouldn’t ever commit. You were never home. You were too into work, too into playing, Dr. Brennan, Astrophysicist, too into everything but her. Well, she sure forced your hand and gave you something you had to commit to, didn’t she? It sounds like revenge to me and I bet she laughed her ass off.’

  ‘Quantum-physicist and I know. I knew that then too, but…listen, sometimes a scapegoat is a convenient way to deal with things you don’t want to see inside yourself.’

  ‘How nice I could be so handy for you and your family. Dear God, you people know absolutely nothing about me!’ All of Dominic’s assumptions, his hatred had been based upon the lie that had revolved around her fraudulent marriage and linked to why his girlfriend left. If he’d carried around that little sketch of her in his mind, if he’d made his theory public, no wonder his mother had spit on her. The nuttiness of the Brennan family was so astounding, so infuriating, Lesley forgot all about enlightening Dominic with the truth.

  The waitress, this time an older woman with two dark braids, stopped beside the table, her shoes squeaking on the wide tiles. She set down a basket of fresh, puffy sopapillas and topped up their coffee, even though it didn’t need topping up.

  Lesley stared at the hot bread. She wondered if steam was rising from the top of her head the way it did off the fried bread. Loath to meet his gaze, she snatched one of the sopapillas and tore it in half. She grabbed the plastic bottle of honey that sat beside the salt, pepper, and fiery habañeo sauce, squeezed a thick line on the sopapilla and shoved an over-sized hunk into her mouth.

  It was a very quiet ride to Fabian’s place outside Española. The little snow-globe of friendliness they’d moved into had been shaken up and Lesley hadn’t said anything since they’d left Tortilla Flats. Neither had he. The rush of relief Dominic had felt back in the restaurant had relaxed him. With the remnants of anxiety concerning what she knew about Stefanie laid to rest, he felt strangely limp, as if he’d spent the morning in the sun.

  Despite his tranquil lethargy he knew he’d upset Lesley. Hurting her hadn’t been his intention and he wanted to take back the things he’d said at lunch. He wanted to start over with her with the air cleared. He wanted to pull into the parking lot of the Cities of Gold Casino in Pojoaque, curl up with her on the font seat and go to sleep spooned around her petite frame.

  Heavy-lidded, he cranked down his window a tad. Maybe a blast of fresh air would slap some sense back into him.

  While the rain had ended, the scent of it and the wet pavement circulated through the Chevy, damp cool wind soft on his face. A gentle water spray kicked up by a passing SUV misted over his arm. The windshield wipers swished in an even tempo, cleaning the spatter away. Other things had been cleared away as well.

  Dominic smiled. Rain washes the atmosphere and truth cleanses the soul. His worry had been senseless. Pandora’s Box had only opened wide enough to allow tendrils of a demon to tickle his doubt. The reality was he’d been an idiot, connecting dots that weren’t even in the picture. Life was bizarre. His ideas were bizarre. His family was bizarre, but he had Kyle and being his dad was something pretty damn wonderful. Yeah, our life’s good and it’s going to stay that way.

  He was still smiling when Lesley finally stirred. She bent forward, kicking aside a few crumpled McDonald’s bags and cardboard drink trays to grab her black, knapsack-style purse sitting amidst the litter on the floor. ‘This truck is a mess,’ she grumbled.

  It was hard to miss the balled-up paper bags, empty cups and French fry boxes all over the seat and floor. Dominic shrugged. ‘Yeah, it is.’

  ‘You ever clean it?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Don’t have the time and it’s not my regular truck.’ Dominic slowed and turned left, driving over a cattle grid set into a gravel and dirt graded road.

  ‘Where are we going?’ He tone crabby, she smoothed on lip balm that smelled like vanilla and mint.

  Dominic’s mouth watered when he wondered what it would taste like. On her. He swallowed. ‘Fabian’s.’

  ‘I know that, but where does he live?’

  ‘Just up around this hill.’

  ‘Is there enough room in the back of the truck?’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For whatever it is we’re picking up.’

  He cocked his head and laughed softly. ‘I imagine it’ll fit in here with us.’

  The truck bumped and rattled over the dirt driveway, rounding a hill where a few horses stood beneath a massive cottonwood. Hidden by the hummock, tucked between pinions and aspens, was a stunning, two-story Territorial-style hacienda.

  Fabian sat on the porch swing, shaded beneath the long white balcony overhead. He watched Dominic park his truck under a tree. The passenger-side door opened. Two red cowboy boots appeared. Then Dominic was there, reaching up to help the boot owner out of the dirt-spattered Chevy. Fabian noticed his friend was very careful about where he put his hands.

  ‘Are we too early?’ Dominic called out.

  ‘No,’ Fabian answered from his spot on the porch swing, ‘Ina dropped by and left them for you to look over.’

  ‘You remember Lesley?’ Dominic’s hand hovered at the small of her back, but didn’t actually make contact with her body.

  ‘Yeah. Hi, it’s been a while,’ Fabian nodded as they stepped onto the porch. ‘Sorry if I don’t get up. I had some work done on my foot.’

  ‘That’s fine. It’s nice to see you again,’ Lesley smiled pleasantly. ‘You’ve got a beautiful place.’

  ‘You should see it at night, when it’s all lit by up the stars. There’s nothing like the stars in New Mexico, and you see them better down here than you can up there on The Hill. So, Sunday,’ Fabian scratched his nose, aware his friend’s eyes lingered on Lesley, ‘you want something to drink or you want to see them now?’

  Dominic put his keys in his pocket. ‘Where are they?’

  ‘Does this mean you’re just going to grab one and get the hell out of Dodge?’

  ‘Pretty much, yeah.’ Dominic gestured to Lesley. ‘I need to get her back home.’

  ‘Don’t let me stop you from being social,’ she said with wave of one hand, ‘I don’t want you to look back someday and have you believe I was responsible for killing your relationship with your best friend. Excuse me, Fabian, may I use your bathroom?’

  ‘Sure. Inside, halfway down the hall, just under the steps.’

  Amused, Fabian ran his thumb and forefinger around his moustache. He watched Dominic frown and followed his gaze. It stayed on Lesley until she vanished into the little room under the stairs. ‘Is it me,’ Fabian said, ‘or were you just spanked for something?’

  ‘Yes, I was.’

  ‘What’d you do to earn that kind of copperal punishment?’

  ‘It’s corporal and I probably should h
ave kept my mouth shut.’ Dominic plopped into the bentwood rocking chair.

  ‘Yeah, that’s you, always talking, always giving lessons.’ Fabian rolled his eyes. ‘Hey, I saw Willa at Whole Foods yesterday.’

  ‘How’d she look?’

  ‘Like a well-dressed zombie.’

  ‘She tell you to fuck off?’

  ‘No, she pretended not to see me. It’s like she’s wearing a cast on her life. It’ll come off eventually. We just have to be patient. That reminds me. When I spoke to your grumpy-assed son this morning, he said you were going out with Greta Sunter this Friday. Did you forget about Kristi’s birthday dinner at Casa Sena?’

  ‘No. Kristi said I could bring a friend.’

  ‘Greta and Kristi?’ Fabian made a face, his nose wrinkling. ‘Oh, please, I’m still trying to smother the embers from when you brought Haley, that tree-hugging enviro-hippy to our Christmas party.’

  ‘She wasn’t that bad.’

  Fabian threw up his hands. ‘In the middle of dinner she started talking about composting toilet systems and the value of reusable sanitary napkins instead of tampons, then she criticised Kristi for not using organic cranberries and roasting a turkey we didn’t raise ourselves!’

  ‘OK, she was that bad. What’s wrong with Greta?’

  ‘We’re Catholic and she’s an apetheist.’

  ‘Yep, Fabian, she’s a gorilla who doesn’t believe in God.’ Dominic rocked back in his seat, chuckling.

  ‘You know what I mean, and Greta’s, well, if you ask me—’

  ‘I never ask you anything.’

  ‘I’m telling you anyway. With those fake boobs, fake tan and a dress that’s something out of an ’80s Duran Duran video, Greta’s on the prowl for some fresh young meat.’

  ‘So why is she seeing me?’

  ‘Respectability.’

  ‘Respectability?’

  ‘Yeah. She tells herself if she sees you sometimes she’s not a cougar robbing cradles. You watch,’ Fabian looked smug, ‘she’ll show up at Casa Sena in a low cut dress so tight you can see her panty liner.’

  ‘Now that’s just gross.’

  ‘You’d be better off bringing that one in there.’ Fabian jerked his chin towards the front door.

  ‘Right. Can we drop this and get on to business?’ Dominic sighed and rose, leaving the chair rocking on its own. ‘So, where are they?’

  ‘The big box over there in the corner,’

  Shuffling, Dominic crossed the porch, going to a shady area where an open, knee-high cardboard box sat. He looked at the contents. ‘They’re pretty small, aren’t they? I didn’t think they’d be this little.’

  ‘Is that a problem?’

  Dominic shook his head and shrugged one shoulder. ‘Nah. Just makes it easier to handle.’

  ‘I don’t know if it’s because she lacks the horns you all said she had, but she looks different,’ Fabian said, getting up to hobble over to the box.

  ‘She’s older.’ Dominic exhaled and shoved his hands in his pockets.

  ‘We’re all older, Sunday. Tortillera or not, she looks good. I don’t remember her looking good. It’s like she’s a bottle of wine someone put away and now she’s been dusted off…and, well, it’s a damn shame you can’t have a taste of that vintage.’

  ‘Fabian?’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Shut up.’

  ‘What’d I say?’

  ‘Just quit it with the Tortillera crap. Lesley’s a decent person. Her sexuality isn’t an issue.’

  ‘Oh. Is that how it is? You like her, huh?’ Fabian was careful to hide his smart little grin.

  Dominic’s hands came out of his pockets and he rubbed his jaw as he turned around. ‘She’s all right.’

  ‘No, man, you’re defending her.’

  ‘Only because I realised it’s just as you said a while back. She bore the blame for every crap decision or thing that went ass-up Brennan-style.’

  ‘Uh-huh. So when was the last time anyone gave your knob a polish?’

  ‘Screw you.’

  ‘Why? Because you know she won’t?’ Fabian started laughing. ‘Yeah, you like her. Oh, wait ‘til I tell your mother!’

  Ignoring the mockery, Dominic knelt back over the cardboard box just as Lesley came out of the house. ‘Come here,’ he motioned to her, ‘I want you to help me with this.’

  ‘With what?’

  ‘Come here and see.’

  She walked across creaking wooden floorboards and peered over Dominic’s shoulder. Inside the box were four fat black and white puppies. They were asleep in a tangled clump of paws, legs and tiny heads. ‘Aren’t they adorable!’

  Balanced on one foot, Fabian explained, ‘They’re rat terriers. Shirley MacLaine has one named Terry.’

  Lesley snickered.

  So did Fabian. ‘My neighbour, Ina, is giving them away. You want one, Lesley? Dominic said you have a bit of a situation at the house you’re doing.’

  ‘A ratter would be great, but I’m out of New Mexico by September and a dog wouldn’t fit my lifestyle in Chicago.’ Lesley knelt beside Dominic and reached in to stroke one of the puppies. ‘Is this what we’re here for?’

  He nodded. ‘Kyle’s pretty down and I can’t stand seeing him mope. He’s always wanted a dog and I’ve got to put a smile back on his face somehow.’

  She put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. ‘That’s really sweet.’

  Lesley cooed at the puppies while Dominic looked at the fingers touching his shoulder.

  Fabian could have sworn he saw his friend’s face flush.

  Chapter 8

  Dominic hadn’t been able to resist stopping at McDonald’s to snag hot apple pies as a late afternoon snack, but he hadn’t touched them since he’d climbed back into the Chevy. They sat in a paper bag on the seat next to the Walmart sack stuffed with Puppy Chow and dog paraphernalia. The hot apple and cinnamon spice created an agreeable fragrance that replaced the damp smell left over from the earlier rain.

  The chubby little puppy sniffed the air, but made no effort to wriggle off Lesley’s lap to investigate the pies or dog food. Instead, the pup chewed on her fingers for a moment then snuggled against her stomach. By the time the truck turned off Trinity onto Diamond Drive, the dog was asleep.

  Several minutes later, they slowed in front of Dominic’s tobacco-coloured house. It was a flat-roofed, Territorial style like Fabian’s, only it sat on prime real estate at the tip of Otowi Mesa, a setting that gave him spectacular views of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains and the entire Rio Grande Valley. Lesley whistled and the sleeping puppy curled up on her lap stirred at the sound, stretching, a tiny pink tongue curling out in a yawn.

  ‘Nice place,’ she said, her fingers absently stroking the dog’s head.

  ‘I like it too.’ Dominic cut the engine. ‘Thanks for this, Lesley. I know I used up your day.’

  ‘It was good to get out of Los Alamos and away from the house for a bit.’

  ‘Come on, let’s go in.’ He popped open his door and slid out of the truck, kicking errant pebbles into pink rock roses and miniature mat daisies along the driveway before coming around to her side.

  Previously, because the Chevy was a little high for her, Dominic had helped her climb in and out. This time, she waved away the arm he offered to assist her exit and handed him the wiggling pup. When she hopped down, she landed squarely on the toe of one of his boots then stumbled over the other. She made a mad grab to regain her balance without knocking the puppy from his hands. Her fingers clawed at the waistband of his pants, his rectangular belt buckle becoming an emergency brake that jerked his chest against her throat and breasts. Head back, she coughed and looked up into very amused eyes that were an exact match to the summer sky overhead.

  ‘Well, ouch,’ he snorted, slipping his free arm around her waist to lift her off his foot.

  It was a simple gesture, a necessary action, but an image exploded in her mind: Stefanie wrapped in Dominic’s arms, Stefanie standin
g on a deck in the backyard, gazing out over the deep canyon and variegated mountain views, Stefanie’s head against Dominic’s chest, his teeth nibbling at her ear. The scene was so vivid, so realistic, and Lesley flinched because she wasn’t imagining Stefanie at all.

  She saw herself.

  ‘You all right?’ Dominic asked, his arm still at her waist.

  ‘I…uh…I,’ she stammered, faking a slight limp when she pulled away, ‘thought I might have wrenched my ankle a little because your big feet were in the way. How’s the dog, did I squish her?’

  ‘Nope,’ Dominic held up the puppy, ‘she’s still a fat little tick with a belly full of grub.’ He hoisted her to his shoulder, nestling her into the crook of his neck and started up the flower-framed paved walkway that led to a white front door. He pushed it open. ‘Go on in.’

  He led her inside, taking her into an open living room that had a bank of picture windows that framed Truchas and Jicarita Peak to the northeast. The floors were wide, stained pine planks. Large carpets softened the look and divided the living from the dining room.

  ‘Kyle,’ Dominic called out, ‘Kyle, where are you?’

  ‘In the den!’ his son shouted back.

  ‘Well, get out here. I want you to meet someone.’ He turned to Lesley, handed her the puppy then gestured to a huge leather couch and two matching chairs. ‘Make yourself comfortable. Can I get you something to drink?’

  ‘Could I have a glass of water?’

  Nodding, he started towards an arched doorway that opened into a kitchen.

  Lesley cuddled the dog to her cheek. She sank deep into the tan-coloured couch, her head dipping below the back rest, both feet dangling several inches off the floor. She crossed her legs and tried not to think about the strange hallucination she’d had outside. It was only hormonal. This nonsense was nothing more than normal hormonal fluctuations.

  Who the hell was she trying to kid? This was about one thing. She was a seriously horny woman who needed, as GP put it in gutter Sicilian, una bella ciavatta.